We Are Strong
by SongsofPsyche1945
Summary: Something bad happened to Phil, something that he desperately wants to keep a secret but it's hard to do when you family is always around you. Rated T for elements of non/con and panic attacks.
1. Chapter 1

Trigger warning for elements of non/con. Please read with care.

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The car ride over was silent, not even Luke—who almost talked nonstop—was saying anything. Phil did not miss the car door slam as he watched Claire storm by him, she thought he was mad at her for something or another, and it was killing him to not tell her the truth. He never kept secrets from Claire, but he had to keep this one. No one could ever know. Not even his wife. The kids jumped out of the car, but Phil lingered just for a second, trying to gather his thoughts and compose himself for this evening. Trying to suppress the memories that kept flashing in his mind's eye like a non-stop movie: _cold hands, hot breath in his ear, wet lips against his neck._ He, no-It-was a monster that he could never escape. Phil shook his head and dug his fingernails in his palms. He couldn't think about it because if he thought about it, then the flashes of memories would come and he couldn't stop them. It was too hard, too painful to remember but almost impossible to forget.

It was Sunday; they always had Sunday dinner at Jay's house with Mitch, Cam and Lily. It was a family tradition, it always had been. Usually Phil looked forward to these dinners, he loved chatting with Jay, loved hearing the humorous updates from Manny about his love life, he even loved watching Mitch and Cam bicker about random things, but tonight was different; yes, he wanted to go inside, wanted to act like everything was normal but it wasn't. Everything was different and he had no idea how he was going to hide it from them. Every loud noise made him jump, and even the slightest touch made him flinch and drop whatever he was holding. It was bad enough that his family knew something was off; he didn't want Claire's family to know too. He couldn't tell them. What would they think of him? He straightened his shoulders and felt his back pop. He could do this. He was strong. He was a Dunphy and Dunphy's are not afraid.

He got out of the car and walked in front of Haley, who was walking slow and texting on her phone. He heard the front door open and Gloria's loud voice welcoming Claire inside. Jay, Mitch and Cam's voices joined in and once again Phil felt his chest fill with fear. Haley bumped into him and he felt himself flinch away from her.

"Watch where you're stopping, Dad." Haley said without looking up from her phone. Usually, Phil would remark back with a quick one but he was so wrapped up in his anxiety that he couldn't get his tongue to work right.

"Dad?" Haley asked, she knew something was wrong. It was weird for him to be this quiet.

"I'm fine, Haley. Sorry." He said quickly and then forced himself to walk forwards toward the door and inside the house.

There they were; Mitch, Cam, Jay, Gloria all waiting for him, all smiling, all excited to go inside and have their dinner. Phil felt his mouth smile, he felt his hands wave but inside all he could focus on was how big Jay and Cam were, how they could easily pin him against the floor or up against the wall, just like- _-No. no no no. Do not think about it_ -. Suddenly strong arms were wrapped around him and Phil was engulfed in a pink shirt—Cam-. Phil felt himself go stiff. It was the smell that did it, Cam's cologne smelled just like _his_ -that monster's- cologne and suddenly Phil was struggling to get away from of Cam, to get free of _him._

"Stop. Stop. Let go." Phil squirmed out of Cam's grasp and stepped backwards into Jay.

"What the hell has gotten into you, Phil. It's just Cam. I know that shirt is horrendous but-." He stopped short as Phil flinched away from him too and paused, face now concerned.

"Phil?" he asked

Phil couldn't speak. His tongue was frozen in fear. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be near them without them knowing what happened. He felt himself shaking.

 _I can't do this._

 _I cannot do this._

 _I have to get out of here._

 _Now._

 _NOW!_

He looked around in a panic, eyes darting from Jay to Cam to Mitch to Claire and then he turned and bolted towards the door, opening it and sprinting away down the driveway, not caring that he tripped over his feet and fell halfway through. Hands and knees stinging, Phil jumped up from the ground and continued to run, ignoring the shouts of his family he ran down the street and turned down Maple Drive. He kept running until he remembered that he was selling a house on the next street over, Cedar Drive. He turned directions and ran towards the house. He fiddled with the key box, grabbing the key and then opening the door. He slammed it shut, locked it securely and then sank down to the floor.

"Calm down Phil, calm down, calm down, calm down. Breathe. In and out and in and out and in and out-" he murmured to himself but it was useless.

He tried but he couldn't catch his breathe. How long would it take them to find him here? 30 minutes? An hour? He didn't know. He tried to think if this house was listed on his website but he didn't remember. He felt something wet on his palm and looked down, surprised to find blood and dirt on his hands. Then he remembered that he had fallen. He looked down at his pants, and saw that the fabric on both knees had ripped open, revealing red raw skin and bits of gravel. His hands were shaking now, his whole body was shaking and he couldn't catch his breath. He didn't know what happened, he didn't realize that something as simple as a smell could trigger something like this. He thought he had been getting better at home, he thought he could handle being around the others but he couldn't. He couldn't even walk in the front door.

Finally, when the sunlight started to fade and the house shadows grew too long, Phil pulled himself up from the floor turned the living room light on and hobbled over to the couch. He sat, thinking that he should probably go fix his hands and knees but all he could do was sit. Heaviness had fallen over him, no longer was he shaking or gasping for breath and he took that as a good sign. Soon, he would be calm enough to return to Jay's house where he would make a smart remark about forgetting to turn the oven off at home and then all would go back to normal. That's what he would do. He would get up, fix his hands and then walk back to Jay's house and pretend nothing ever happened.

A loud knock brought him out of his planning, making his flinch so hard he dropped the pillow he was holding.

"Phil?" a voice asked, Phil recognized it as Mitchel's voice.

"Phil?" Mitch asked again, "Are you there? Can I come in?"

He knocked again.

Phil sighed, but he couldn't summon himself to get up off the couch, or even respond to Mitch. He wanted to, but he was also afraid of what would happen if he let the other man inside.

Mitch knocked again, a few moments passed and then he said, "I'm coming inside."

Mitch opened the door and walked inside the house. He dangled the key out in front of him.

"The key was still in the lock." He said, and then he closed the door, and put the key on the table next to the door.

"Phil?" Mitch asked, walking over towards him. Phil couldn't bring himself to look Mitch in the eye. He felt his face flush red and he stared at his scarped up hands. He felt the couch indent as Mitch sat down next to him.

"Your hands." he commented.

Phil balled his hands into fists, not wanting to cause Mitch more pity than he already had.

"Claire's really worried about you, she told me that you were acting funny these last few days and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know what was wrong." He said, Phil nodded to show that he heard. His tongue still wasn't working right.

"Alex was able to figure out where you went. She's smart, you should be proud of her. She pulled up your website and calculated the distance to each house—it was incredible." He continued.

Phil nodded again.

"Claire wanted to come, but I offered. I knew she would bombard you with questions; What happened? What's wrong? Why are you acting so weird? What did you do? Why did you run?" he said in the perfect imitation of Claire.

Phil smiled despite himself. Mitch _did_ sound like her.

"I can make fun of her, she's my sister." Mitch said, "And she can be a little shrill sometimes. That's why I offered to come get you, because I'm not going to bombard you with questions and expect answers immediately. I just want to make sure your okay." He said, looking up at Phil.

Phil nodded again.

There was a beat of silence, and then Phil realized that Mitch was waiting for him to say something else.

"I'm….I'm sorry I ran off like that." He said quietly

Mitch nodded, "That's okay, are you hurt—oh your knees." He said and then he smiled, " That was an epic fall by the way."

"It was pretty cool. I think I got some air." Phil responded, finally starting to defrost a little bit.

"Do you think this place has a first aid kit? We can clean you up before we go back-or we can stay here-whatever you want to do, I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to." Mitch said.

Phil thought for a moment. Eventually, he _had_ to go back. They were his family, and they needed him just as much as he needed them. He would be strong for them; he wouldn't let fear take him over again.

"There's one in the kitchen, in the cabinet above the fridge. One of the many added features this house contains." Phil said, reciting directly from the article he had drafted for the house.

Mitch smiled, "Awesome. I'll be right back."

Phil let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Mitch was great, he really was but Phil still felt the little buzz of anxiety. It was there, waiting to pounce again like a cat hunting a mouse. He didn't know when it would come back.

Mitch returned with the kit, and a glass of water.

"This isn't too bad at all. We'll just clean up the blood and dirt." Mitch reported looking at Phil's knees and opening the first aid kit. He pulled out an alcohol swab and a band aid.

"This may sting a bit." He said, and Phil nodded. He winced a little bit but managed to stay still while Mitchel cleaned and bandaged both knees.

"Now your hands." He said

Phil opened his palms and allowed Mitch to clean and bandage them as well. When Mitch was finished, he packed up the first aid kit and put in on the small table in front of them. He handed Phil the glass of water.

"Drink the whole thing, and when you're done we can head back over to my dad's place-if you want." He said

Phil nodded and took a sip, then another one. Once again, he realized that Mitch was waiting for him to say something, anything at all.

"Cam-." Phil started, and then stopped again. Mitch looked at him, giving him his full attention.

"Cam knows that I wasn't fl—running from him, right? Because it wasn't him it's just…the hug was unexpected and it caught me off guard." Phil said shakily, choosing his words carefully.

Mitch nodded, "He knows. And he's sorry that he scared you."

Phil nodded and took another sip of water. Silence over took them again and Phil wished the glass were smaller so he could drink up and they could go.

"Did something happen to you, Phil?" Mitch asked after a few more beats of silence.

Phil stared down at the glass, refusing to look Mitch in the eye. And suddenly he wasn't in the living room anymore, he was in the darkened bowling alley, and _that monster_ had him pinned up against the wall, holding his arms at the small of his back and kissing his ear-.

"Phil?" Mitch's voice broke through the darkness, and Phil flinched away from him, causing the water to spill a little on his jeans.

"You don't have to answer, you can just nod or shake your head." Mitch said, and then he asked, "Did someone hurt you?"

Phil nodded.

"A woman?"

He shook his head.

"A man?"

Phil hesitated, but then he nodded yes.

"Oh jeez. Did he ra-."

Phil shook his head, "No. No no-he tried."

"But, he hurt you?" Mitch asked again.

Phil nodded. He still had bruises from where _he_ grabbed him and kicked him, on his arms and torso, and his neck—which he had concealed with a bit of Claire's makeup.

"Did you know him?"

Phil shook his head. He hadn't known _him_ personally, just seen him at the bowling alley. He was the janitor, and he always seemed friendly until that night Phil stayed later than usual to look for his wallet.

"He was a stranger?"

Phil nodded.

"It scared you." Mitch said

Phil nodded again. He didn't even realize how much it had affected him until he saw Jay and Cam this afternoon.

"I am so sorry, Phil. That this happened to you. It is scary—terrifying actually. And healing takes time, but it will get better. It always did for me, anyway."

Phil looked up at Mitch, and for the first time that night they locked eyes.

"You?" he asked in a thin whisper.

Mitch nodded, "Things were rough for me, before I met Cam. I trusted a lot of people that I shouldn't have. But I came out all right, with the help of my family. They kept me strong."

Phil nodded again and took another sip of water.

"You won't say anything?" he asked

Mitch shook his head, "Not a word, not until you're ready to tell."

Phil nodded.

More silence, Phil took a few more sips from the glass. Mitch wasn't pressuring Phil to say anything else and he appreciated it. It helped him straighten out his thoughts, and think about what he was going to do when he saw Claire. He took another sip of water, he was almost done and the thought of walking back into Jay's house after what happened made his hands shake.

Mitch must have noticed, for he then said, "Take a deep breathe, it will be alright. We don't have to go until you are ready."

Phil nodded, and then finished the last bit of water. Then he heard Mitch's stomach growl and was surprised that it made him laugh.

"Hungry?" he asked

Mitch smiled, "Gloria made a roast steak. I was just thinking about it; a good, old-fashioned roast. Cam always wants to cook the latest trend, which lately has been more of a disaster than a success. Last night he tried to make apple and kale soup with pear sausage and sage. Can you imagine? Lily and I had to sneak out and get burgers after he went to bed." He laughed a little at the memory.

"Don't tell Cam." He added

Phil laughed a little, trying to picture what apple and kale soup would taste like.

"Thank goodness for Gloria." He said. He was starting to feel better, more like himself than he had this past week. He set the glass down on the table.

Mitch looked up at him, "You ready?" he asked

Phil paused, but then nodded his head. "Okay." He said

Mitch stood up slowly, and took the glass off the table.

"I'll put this back, and then we can get going." He said

Phil nodded. He stood up, stretched and then winced. The ribs on his right side still ached, and he wondered if any of them had broken when _he_ kicked him.

Mitch came back from the kitchen. "Ready?" he asked

Phil nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

Mitch walked towards the door and opened it. Phil took a deep breath and then followed him out.

The ride over was silent; both men were wrapped up in their own thoughts. They reached Jay's house quicker than Phil expected. Mitch stopped the car and turned the engine off.

"You'll be fine, you'll do fine." Mitch said softly, looking up at Phil.

Phil just nodded his head. The anxiety was coming back now, pushing on his eyes and making the world go fuzzy. He blinked a few times and fiddled with the band aids on his hands.

"Joe bit one of Manny's girl friends again." Mitch said, and then smiled.

"Gloria told me. Now Joe has to be in his play pen when they have guests over." He laughed.

Phil smiled, and suddenly felt calmer. Concentrating on something else helped his forget the anxiety.

"Alright, let's go inside." Phil said. Mitch nodded and opened the car door. Phil realized that Mitch had been waiting for him to give the cue to go, and once again appreciated how helpful he was being.

Mitch led the way, and opened the door to Jay's house. Phil followed him, taking deep breathes, not knowing what to expect. When they got inside, it was quiet. Stella greeted them with the clicking of her toes against the hardwood floor and by licking Mitch's toes. A movie was playing—Phil wasn't sure which one—in the living room. Mitch motioned for Phil to follow him into the kitchen, where he sat down at the table and began opening up leftovers. Phil sat down next to Mitch and accepted the plate of food.

"Phil?" a voice asked, and Phil looked up to see Claire staring at him from the doorway. They stared at each other for ten whole seconds, Phil counted it in his head: one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi…

Then she walked over, sat down at the table and gently took Phil's hand.

"You know I'll love you no matter what." She told him softly.

Phil smiled back at her, "I know. I love you too." He answered.

Claire let go of his hand, and reached to grab the bottle of wine and a glass. She poured it and then handed it to him.

"Thanks" he said

"Are you okay, Phil?" she asked, eyes full of concern.

Phil half shrugged and nodded, "I'll be fine."

Claire nodded, "Alright."

She took his hand again and smiled sadly at him. He squeezed it gently; he wanted her to know that he'll be okay. That he was going to be okay, like Mitch said, in time this would fade and then he'll be better and everything would go back to normal again. She squeezed his hand back, and he looked up at her, their eyes connected and –like always—Phil felt his heart falling in love with her all over again. Their surroundings faded away, it was just the two them and Phil felt his chest filling with their strength.

He was going to be okay.

He barely noticed the rest of his family filing into the kitchen. Haley sat down next to Claire and reached over, putting her hand on top of theirs. Alex then added her hand to their pile, and then Luke did. Gloria and Manny walked over, and Gloria put her hands on Claire's shoulders. Jay sat down with Joe in his lap and wrapped on arm around Haley. He reached across the table and connected hands with Mitch. Cam entered last, holding Lily's hand they walked over and sat down next to Mitch. Lily crawled into Mitch's lap and then reached over and grabbed Phil's other hand.

They sat there as a family, all connected to each other, all feeling the same pulse of strength that flowed through them.

"We are strong." Claire said, not taking her eyes off of his.

Together they would get through this, together they would be strong.

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Thank you for reading! I have a few more chapter ideas that I am currently working on. Think of it as a one-shot for now though.

A quick note regarding reviews and comments (after a few bad experiences, I was forced to put this on here so just bare with me for a moment):

I just wanted to remind you all about writing etiquette and what adequate feedback means. I totally will accept constructive criticism, everyone should, it's the only way we can become better writers but I will **not** accept hateful comments. Constructive criticism is defined as the process of offering valid and well-reasoned opinions about the work of others, usually involving both positive and negative comments, in a friendly manner rather than an oppositional one. The purpose of constructive criticism is to improve the outcome. It basically comes down to this: I can write whatever I want, and if you don't like it, that's fine but please be respectful of my work.

We are all on here because we love to read and write fanfiction, and I fully support everyone who reads, writes and posts on here. Some write because they want to tell a story, others write as a way to cope with their past and to heal, and some write purely because they love it. Remember what it's like to receive disrespectful comments before you decide to post something negative-it hurts- so please be mindful when writing comments.

Please respect your fellow authors, respect yourself.

Peace and love,

Songsofpsyche.


	2. Chapter 2

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The following week was one of the hardest one's Phil had ever had. Even though his family was supportive, they all seemed to be walking on eggshells around him. The kids flitted around him, avoiding his eye and Claire barely spoke to him. They seemed to be waiting for something, waiting on pins and needles for Phil to let them know if he was okay, waiting for him to tell them what happened but Phil couldn't muster up the courage to tell them. Instead, he did what he always did to prove that he was fine; he overcompensated.

He threw himself into home improvement projects; the step needed to be fixed, they needed a new ceiling fan installed, the shed needed to be painted, the grass mowed, the garden planted. If he always was busy, if he always had something to do than he didn't have to think about what happened. He couldn't think about it, he wouldn't let himself. He drove himself with such a ferocity that by the end of the day he was too exhausted to think about anything besides sleeping, but then the nightmares would come and he'd force himself to stay awake by doing more projects; organizing the garage, putting the bookshelf in alphabetical order, vacuuming the inside of the car and upgrading the smoke detectors.

It was late Thursday night-or early Friday morning, 2:30AM to be exact when Phil felt himself jolt awake at the kitchen table to the smell of smoke and the five newly installed fire alarms blaring. He bolted up and raced to the oven, where smoke was billowing out of the closed door. Swearing loudly, he threw the door down and pulled out the severely burned blueberry muffins he had been baking with his bare hands. He swore again as the pans burned him and he dropped them on the floor with a crash. Smoke was still everywhere, the alarms were still blaring and Phil felt his whole body shaking. Why had he let himself fall asleep? How could he be so-

"Dad? What's going on?"

"PHIL! What are you doing?!"

"Is the house burning down?"

The voices of his family interrupted Phil's berating. He quickly motioned for the door.

"Everyone outside! You know the drill! Open the windows and doors. Get the smoke out. Nothing's on fire. Everything is under control." He shouted as he opened the door wide, and then pulled up the living room windows.

Claire, Luke and Haley stared at him.

"Had Dad gone insane?" Luke finally asked after a few beats of silence.

Claire sighed, "No honey. He's just working some stuff out. Go outside and wait until the smoke clears out." She answered, ushering them out of the house. Then she turned to Phil, and he expected her to be furious but then he realized that her eyes with glassy and he knew it wasn't from the smoke.

"Phil." She said softly.

"I'm fine. Everything is fine." Phil answered, not looking her in the eye. He walked past her into the kitchen, and stared picking up the burnt pieces of muffin that had scattered across the floor.

Claire followed him in the kitchen. "Phil." She said again, this time a little louder. He flinched and dropped the pieces he was holding. They fell back onto the floor, but Claire didn't notice. She was still staring at him.

"This has gone on long enough. All week I have let you be, hoping you could get better on your own, but you're not getting better. You're not fine." She said.

Phil shook his head, "I will be. I just need more time."

"This has to stop Phil, this manic overcompensating that you always do. Its too much. You don't have anything to prove to us." She said, and then she reached for him. Phil took a couple of steps backwards, away from her hand. He still didn't like people touching him, every touch reminded him of _his_ touch and it brought back flashbacks that he couldn't stop.

Claire sighed, "You have to trust me, Phil. I'm not going to hurt you."

Then she bent down and started picking up the scattered pieces of burnt muffin. Phil knelt down and joined her. Together, they silently cleaned up the kitchen. At some point or another the fire alarms stopped, and the smoke eventually cleared out leaving behind a bitter burnt smell.

Claire sat back down on the floor, rearranging her robe she sat crossed legged and looked up at Phil. She patted the floor next to her and gave him a small smile. Phil sat down next to her, pulling his legs up to his chest and crossing his arms over them.

"So, muffins, uh?" Claire asked

Yesterday—to the delight of their children—Phil has conquered a rather difficult recipe for chocolate lava cupcakes with peanut butter frosting.

"I couldn't sleep." Phil answered

"I've noticed. You need to get some rest, Phil."

Phil shook his head, "I can't….I don't want nightmares….I can't wake up screaming, it'll scare the kids."

"I think you've scared them already with your baking." Claire said, her lips twitched with a small smile.

"Are they still outside?"

"I hope so."

They listened for signs of them, and Phil felt himself smile just a little bit as he heard Haley yell at Luke for taking her phone.

"You ready to go to bed?" Claire asked

Phil shrugged.

Claire reached out again and very slowly put her hand on his knee. This time Phil made himself not flinch away. She scooted a little closer to him, her gaze soft and warm. Slowly, very slowly she pulled him into her, resting his head on her chest. He finally gave in and wrapped his arms around her. She felt so safe, so good. He breathed in the familiar sent of his wife and felt the tension in his back leave him. She rested her head on his and breathed softly into his ear. Suddenly, Phil wasn't in the kitchen anymore; he was back in the cold drafty bowling alley with his hands pinned behind him and his face flat against the wall and _his_ hot breath in his ear.

Phil jerked back from Claire, scuttling on his hand across the kitchen away from her.

"Stop." He murmured

His back hit the cabinet under the sink. No, no _he_ could not take this away from him. _He_ could not take away the only thing that made sense in his life.

More flashes, more pain hit him like lighting bolts. He felt it; the cold grip on his wrists, the hot breathe in his ear, the stale salty smell of _his_ breath.

"Stop!" he shouted again. He pulled his hands up and hit his head with his palms. He had to make the memories stop. Why wouldn't they stop? Why wouldn't they just go away?

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" he shouted, hitting his head with each word. The pain helped, it distracted him from the flashes.

"Stop! Stop-."

"Phil!"

Hands grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from his head. Phil struggled against them. He had to keep going, he had to make them stop.

"Phil. Stop. Look at me." Claire said, gripping his wrists hard and sticking her face in his. Phil had no other choice but to look up at her. Their eyes met for the first time that week and Phil forced himself not to look away from those beautiful blue-comforting eyes.

"It won't stop. I can't make it stop. It won't. He won't." Phil garbled, trying to explain to her what he was feeling. He tried to jerk his hands away but she held on tight.

"It's okay, Phil. You're going to be okay. We'll make it stop, I promise." She said and Phil held onto her voice like a lifeline.

"We will make it stop. No one is going to hurt you. He is long gone." She said.

Phil nodded. He could feel is heart beating in his chest. She held onto him for a few seconds longer, "Let's get you to bed. I'm going to let go now, okay?" she told him.

He nodded again and she let go of his wrists.

"Can you stand?" she asked

He nodded. She backed away to give him some room, and he used the counter to pull himself up.

"Good, good Phil. Can you walk?"

He nodded and took a shaky step forward. She walked slowly, leading him up the stairs and into their bedroom. She folded down the covers for him on his side and the minute he saw his pillow he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him. How long was it since he had slept there? 2 days? 3 days? He couldn't keep track anymore. He felt himself sit down, and then he lay down on the pillow. Claire pulled the blankets up over him.

"Get some rest, Phil. You need it." She told him.

He nodded. His eyes felt very heavy, and suddenly sleep seemed like the best thing in the world.

"I love you." He murmured, his words slurred.

"I love you too, honey." She answered.

"Don't leave me…."

"I won't, I promise."

He felt the bed intent, and Claire started humming softly. Phil felt himself drifting off and soon he was asleep.

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Thank you for reading, as always please keep your comments respectful.


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